Stros M'Kai Rum
by antiviancrows
Summary: The bards will say that the romance was wild and exhilirating. The bards are full of shit. (Sorex Vinus/F!Dragonborn)
1. Chapter 1

The bards will say that it was a great and fantastical love story to rival the ages. The bards are full of shit. It was a quiet affair, gentle and soft but _there_ , and it started over a bottle of Stros M'Kai Rum. He had been grumbling about having to walk all the way to the Blue Palace and she had breezed into the inn and offered to do it with a smile The bards will say that he fell in love with her in that moment, but he didn't.

He fell in love with her when she came back, ordered a bottle of Surlie Brothers wine, and asked him shyly if he wanted to sit with her. They talked and talked until dawn broke, and they were both so tired and so drunk and they stumbled up the stairs and fell into bed together, laughing and giggling. They fell asleep mid-story, curled up like a couple of puppies together.

After that, the Dragonborn stopped by Solitude often. Sometimes she would bring trinkets from her travels for him, and other times she would limp into the inn bleeding and bruised but so very much alive. She didn't fall in love with him until the first time he tended her wounds. The next time she came to Solitude, she had an amulet of Mara around her neck. The bards will tell stories of a magnificent proposal meant to bring tears to your eyes. The bards are still full of shit. The proposal was a quiet, casual affair, and they walked to Riften together.

She was not the Dragonborn to him. She was just a woman. While the Dragonborn carved out her path in Skyrim, Izra made a home with Sorex. She took a year off of saving the world to have her daughter. That year was a good year, one of her favorites.

After the world had been fixed, the Dragonborn would retire. She would live out the rest of her life with her husband and her children, and anyone who saw the laughing woman swing her children into the air wouldn't recognize her as the hard-faced woman who had saved the world.

The bards will say that the romance was exciting and breath-taking, but the bards are full of shit. It was a quiet love, as sure as the ocean beating against the shore.


	2. Chapter 2

Solitude was a large and beautiful city. The people there were distant, hiding behind their wealth, and Izra felt out of place in her scuffed armor and disheveled brown hair. She might have been the Dragonborn, but she was a girl who had come from one of the poorer places in Cyrodiil. She had learned from the beginning not to show any weaknesses, because weaknesses would be extorted. As a Bosmer orphan in the Imperial province, she had faced a modicum of racial discrimination. She had grown up with a life that would make anyone else hard and angry, but she had retained some scrap of innocence. She was willing to believe the best out of anyone.

So when she walked into the inn, with all the fancy decor, she felt wrong, but she kept her head held high and pretended that she belonged here. After all, she had the status for Solitude. She was Thane in Whiterun, but she had yet to grow into the title. "Do you think Falk would mind waiting another day for that rum?" she heard, as she approached the bar. The man's voice was gruff, and for a fleeting second after he turned to her she realized it matched his appearance quite well. "Ah, hello. Are you a customer? Would you like a warm meal, some cold drink, or a soft bed?" he asked. "I...would like a room for the night," she admitted, "and a meal later."

"All right. The room will be...twenty septims, for a pretty girl like you," he said. She could feel the tips of her ears turn red. "Thank you, serah," she said, dipping her head and shuffling her feet as she handed him the coins. "I...overheard you. You have a delivery to make to the Blue Palace?" she inquired, cocking her head to the side as she waited for an answer. "Aye, I do. Falk Firebeard, Jarl Elisif's steward, ordered a bottle of Stros M'Kai Rum. He wants it delivered to him at the Blue Palace," Sorex explains. Izra brightens, straightening her back and looking up at him. "I could do that for you, after I have a bath and change. I wanted to speak to Elisif anyway, and I promised the owners of Radiant Raiment that I would wear one of their dresses when I went. I could make the delivery when I go," she offered. "I would appreciate it, but I don't want to impose," the man said. "It's no trouble," she assures him. "I would like to know your name, though," he asks her, a soft smile teasing the corners of his mouth upwards. "Izra. What is yours?" she asked. "Sorex. Sorex Vinius."

An hour later, Izra had scrubbed the sweat and dirt from her skin so hard that she glowed. She twisted hair into an elaborate updo. She had to admit, she looked good in the dress the two Altmer women had given her to wear. The pale yellow complimented her tan skin as she stepped back out onto the busy streets of Solitude. Later, Falk would thank her for making the delivery and make polite conversation, and Elisif would comment on Izra's dress, and Izra found it easy to pretend she belonged. She certainly looked the part.

She was glad, though, to get back to the Winking Skeever. The inn was boisterous and loud, but no one paid her any second glances. She made her way to the bar; ordered a bottle of Surilie Brothers wine. It had always been her favorite. Sorex was in the corner, putting wood on the fire, and she made her way over to him, bottle of wine in hand. "Would you like to sit with me?" she asked, her voice so soft he could barely hear it over the noise of the inn. She nods towards an empty table in the back. "I'd like that," he answered, and followed her over. She wedged herself into the corner and he slid into the seat next to her. She offered him the bottle of wine almost hesitantly. "That's your wine, and it's expensive wine. I'd hate to take it from you," Sorex said, although he eyed the bottle longingly. "And I'd hate to drink alone," Izra replied, a soft smile on her face as Sorex took the bottle and drank.

"So, where are you from?" he asked, leaning close to her. "Bravil, in Cyrodiil. You from Solitude or?" she answered, leaning towards him so she could be heard. She was almost a head shorter than him. "I've lived here all my life. Father runs the inn; I'm set to inherit it when he...retires. What was Bravil like?" he replies, his lips almost grazing the tip of her ear. She shivered and took a sip of the wine. "It was...poor. Riften actually reminds me a lot of Bravil. Everywhere you look something's falling apart or someone's starving on the streets. It's nothing like Solitude," she tells him. She takes another drink of the wine, so her hands can have something to do.

It is not long until he asks the question she had been dreading. "What brought you to Skyrim?" he asks. "A lot of things. Mostly blind hope," she calls back. In the center of the room, a couple of the patrons were in the middle of a bar fight. The rest of the inn's patrons were rather loud. His hand is resting on her knee, and she can't remember when. Perhaps she has drunk too much wine already. Her face is flushed, and the bottle is half empty. She feels warm and happy, which is strange considering she hasn't been warm since she came to Skyrim.

They talk until the inn empties out and even Sorex's father disappears upstairs to bed. One bottle of wine turned into two and two turned into three, and Izra was well and truly drunk. "Come up to bed with me," she pleads, her eyes wide and her face almost pink from the wine. "Izzint too soon for that?" he asked, confusion coloring his face. Izra laughed and went to hit him playfully. She missed, her hand hitting the table instead. "Not like thaaaa'. Jus' to sleep," she assured him. "Will you tell me a story?" Sorex asked her, looking hopeful. "'Course! Come on," she says, standing. She staggers, but then she turns, clasping her hands around his wrist and tugging. He follows her up the stairs, the two of them laughing and giggling like schoolchildren, and they collapse on her bed side-by-side, the door still open.

"What story are you gonna tell?" Sorex asks, turning onto his side to face her. Somehow, they had landed in a pile of limbs, and Izra was more on him than beside him. "I could tell you abouuuut the first dragon I killed," she says. "Oooh, a dragon!" he remarks, and for some reason the two of them dissolve into giggles again. She begins telling the story, only to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. Sorex, thankfully, had already passed into the realm of dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

_There is smoke and fire and death all around her, and all Izra can feel is a carnal terror. She does not feel the heat of the flames as she skirts them too closely. She does not feel the wind from the beast's wings as he flies overhead. All she feels is the need to run, the need to get away. She does not know if she follows the flashes of red or the flashes of blue until she is inside the Keep, smelling of fire and death. "Gods, I'm sorry," she whispered. She is not sure what she is sorry for._

She jerks awake, biting back a scream. She is still tangled up in Sorex, but the man doesn't wake. Slowly, carefully, she untangles herself from him. She thinks back on the night before, and when she is satisfied with her spotty memory, she uses the chamberpot. She is still so very tired, but Sorex is in her bed, and she wages a war in her mind between crawling back into the bed or slipping downstairs. It is still dark outside, although she does not know the time. Sleep eventually wins out, her eyes too heavy to stay open, and she slips under the covers next to him.

She has another nightmare, or is it a continuation of the first? All she knows is that there is more death, more fire, and more smoke and that she is so very tired. Her lungs are burning and her legs are aching, and there is death flying above her on wings as black as night. The dragon lands in front of her, opens it's massive maw to Shout at her or maybe bite her, but either one would kill her because she is close, too close, and there would be no getting away. She is Dragonborn, but that is not enough to stand up to these creatures, and just as the fire starts licking at her tanned skin, she jerks awake with a scream that can't be contained.

Sorex reaches for her. He must be a heavy sleeper, for it is dawn, and even her scream didn't wake him. She rolls towards him, away from the offending light. Her head hurts and she is not sure if it is from the alcohol she's drank or the nightmares she's had, but pain is pain and she finds herself clinging to it even as she buries her angular face in Sorex's chest.

She is not sure how long she lays there, listening to him breathe, but he startles her when she feels his fingers twine through her hair. "The day's not even started properly and yet I wake up with a beautiful woman and a headache from the Void," he remarks, and Izra tips her head back. The sunlight dances through her lashes, framing Sorex's form. "And it's not every day that I wake up with a great bear of a man," she answers, easily, and they share a brief smile.

They lay there for a few moments longer, each of them unwilling to rise but both of them knowing they have to. She has to leave for Wolfskull Cave and he has to help his father run the inn. Eventually, though, they rise, and leave the warmth of the bed behind. Sorex turns to her as he reaches the door, his hair disheveled and his beard ruffled. "Izra?" he says, "you will always have a place at the Winking Skeever whenever you visit Solitude." She smiles softly, tucking a strand of her own raven hair behind her ear. "I thank you, Sorex Vinius," she says. He doubts that she will ever come to Solitude again. She is a traveler, an adventurer, and there is no adventure to be had within the great stone walls of Skyrim's capital city. He made the offer anyway, a hopeful smile turning the corners of his lips upwards.

Izra dresses in her armor, pulling her hair back away from her face. A few strands fall down, framing her. She examines herself in the mirror critically. Her face is all sharp angles, but there is a delicateness about her that she wishes she could lose. She is small and wiry, but she has never hated or disliked her body. She has mostly concentrated on keeping it alive. Now, she has more than enough gold to spend. She is still lonely, though, but the life of an adventurer is often lonely.

With one look back at the inn, she leaves the gates, and leaves Solitude.


	4. Chapter 4

Izra stumbles back to Solitude around midnight. She was covered in blood, although most of it, thankfully, was not hers. She was bone tired too, and she supposed that she should have unrolled her bedroll and fallen asleep just outside of Solitude, but there was an inn that called her name with a man that looked like a gruff bear, so she kept going. Luckily, Sorex himself was running the bar when she walked in. There were still a few people drinking. "Izra, is that you?" Sorex asked, half-stepping out from behind the bar. "Yeah. I...need a drink. Strongest you have. And a bath. And a bed. In that order," she said, her hand clutching her ribs as she sank onto the bar stool. "Of course," Sorex breathed, after a couple of seconds of dumbstruck staring. He jumped into action, filling a mug with the strongest rum they had in stock. "I'll go draw you a bath right now. The room you rented two days ago is still open. No charge, this time," he said, and disappeared upstairs as she nursed her mug.

When he came back downstairs, she was ready for that bath. "Here, let me help you up the stairs," he said, sliding an arm around her waist. "I can do it," she protested half-heartedly, but made no move to pull away. He had to stoop down so he was her height, and Izra felt somewhat guilty allowing him to help her like this, but she needed the help. Her ribs burned with every step, but thankfully they were soon at the top. "Get some rest, Iz. You look like you need it," he said, walking her to her door. "Do you have a change of clothes? 'Cause if not I have an extra shirt that should work for you to sleep in," he asked. "I...might need that, actually. Would you mind?" she asked, biting her lip. His hand was on her cheek, tilting her face up towards him. "No, I wouldn't mind. You go get in that bath. There are towels in the chest at the foot of the bed. I'll leave the shirt out here on this table," he promised, and Izra smiled at him gratefully.

Sinking into the water felt better than she could have expected. It was hot, just like she liked it, but not too hot. Her sensitive skin tingled as she scrubbed gently at it with the rough soap. Her ribs were most likely cracked, as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her every time she moved a certain way, but that was the worst of her injuries. Soon, she was clean, and she rose from the tub. She patted herself dry with the towel and wrapped it around herself as she opened the door. Sorex's shirt was exactly where he'd said it would be, with a neat note on top of it. She carefully grabbed both things, and exited back into her room.

She let the towel fall to the floor as she made her way to the desk, opening the note and spreading it out on the wooden surface. She pushed her hair over her shoulder to avoid getting the note wet, and read it.

 _Just drag the tub into the hallway when you finish. I'll take care of it for you._

 _-Sorex_

Izra found herself smiling as she read the note. She pulled his shirt over her head. It came down to mid-thigh, plenty long enough for her to sleep in. She did as the man had asked, leaving the tub just outside of her door. Gratefully, she collapsed on the bed, ignoring the ache in her side as she did so.

When she woke up again, Sorex was there by her bedside. Her mouth was so dry it felt as though her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth, and it was hot. She let out a groan as she tried to sit up. "No, no, just stay still. You slept for an entire day, and when I came up to check on you, you were burning up with fever," he explained, brushing her hair back off of her forehead. "Water," she managed. He slid one arm under her back, propping her up, and he raised a mug to her lips. She drank greedily, letting out a small whine when he pulled the mug away. "Too much will make you sick," he warned. "What's wrong with me?" she asked, reaching up to rub at her eyes. They felt gritty. "A mild case of Bone Break Fever. The priest that came by said you'd be fine as long as you stayed in the bed as much as possible. I've talked my father out of charging you for the room. Just rest, and you'll be fine," he said, his hand moving down to squeeze her own. "Thank you, Sorex. For everything," she whispered.

She felt truly awful, she decided, after he had gotten up to get her a bowl of broth. Her throat ached, her skin itself was sore, she was feverish, and her ribs still hurt. But Sorex was so gentle as he took care of her, taking the time to spoon-feed her the broth, and her chest started to feel funny. Oh, no, she thought. Not this. She was the Dragonborn. She couldn't fall in love.

She stayed in bed for the better part of two days, only getting up to use the chamber pot. Sorex rarely left, and while she was grateful for his company, she was wary of getting too close to him. She didn't want to put him in danger.

Late at night, on the second day after she had woken, she turned to him. His eyes were starting to droop close. "I'm the Dragonborn," she said, because she had no other way to tell him. "Yeah, and I'm the Emperor," Sorex snorted. "No, really, I am. I can Shout and prove it if you want," she said, sitting up. She felt much better now, and she knew tomorrow that she was going to get back to work, even if it was only to deliver her report to Elisif and Falk. "If you're really the Dragonborn, that won't be a problem. Go ahead, Shout," he encouraged. "FIEM," she yelled, and Sorex visibly recoiled when she became transparent. For a brief moment, she was worried that he would think less of her, that he would see the monster within her. "That's...How...What...But you're….Gods!" Sorex spluttered, and Izra couldn't stop the grin that tugged at her mouth as she became solid once more.

"I can't believe you're the Dragonborn. I always thought the Dragonborn would be a Nord!" Sorex exclaimed, after a few moments. "Yeah, it was a shock to me too," she answered with a weak chuckle. "It must be hard. Fate of the world, and all, resting on you," he remarked. "Well, it's not...easy," she murmurs uneasily, shifting. Sorex hesitated a moment before speaking, reaching out and brushing her hair out of her face. "Anytime you get tired of saving the world, you can come back and just be Izra here," he promised her. Izra's face lit up. She leaned forward, brushing her lips against Sorex's cheek. "Thank you, Sorex," she whispered, and suddenly Solitude didn't feel so wrong to her.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Izra dressed in one of her dresses. It was a simpler dress, blue and patched several times. She brushed her hair out carefully, even though she had to take breaks because she was so weak from being sick. She was still sick, although her fever had long since broken. Sorex took over, once she was dressed, and insisted on braiding her hair. She let him without much protest. "Would you like to come with me to the Blue Palace? I really need to report back to Elisif," she asked, smiling up at him. "I'd love to," he answered, and Izra linked her arm in his.

It took them a long time to get to the Blue Palace. Izra had to stop a few times and catch her breath, and she was leaning on Sorex more than she should have been. If Sorex had not been afraid of offending her (because he wouldn't dare risk offending her, he was in too deep,) he would have teased her about how frail the Dragonborn was. As it was, they talked more than they probably should have.

They reached the Blue Palace around mid-day. Izra was ashamed for taking so long, but she was probably pushing herself too far already. Sorex didn't seem to mind, though, and the guards at the Palace treated her with respect. "I'm here to report to Elisif and Falk Firebeard," she said, and a guard led her up the stairs. Sorex hung back, now, hovering just behind her. "Izra, do you have news for us?" Falk asks, cheerfully, when he sees her. "Yes, it's regarding Wolfskull Cave. It is unpleasant news, though," she says, slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Well? Out with it," the steward says. Sorex brushes his hand against Izra's lower back, and she relaxes. "There was a group of necromancers. They were trying to bring back Queen Potema," Izra explains, forcing herself to stand straight. Her skin ached with tiredness, just from walking to the Blue Palace, and she felt like death warmed over.

There was a flurry of movement and activity, where Falk burst into action. The priest of Arkay in the Hall of the Dead was notified, and sometime during the ensuing whirlwind, Elisif pulled Izra aside. "Could you do something personal for me?" the Jarl asks, her big eyes glistening with tears. "Of course. What is it?" Izra asks, giving her full attention to the other woman. "When my husband was killed, we offered prayers to all the gods aside from Talos. I...I know Talos worship is illegal, and I know this is very dangerous, but could you take my husband's war horn to one of his shrines?" she asks, pulling the horn out of a hidden pocket in her skirt. Izra felt for her, she really did, even though she harbored no love of the Empire. "Of course. It will be awhile until I am well enough for proper travel, but I'll go as soon as I'm able," she promised, taking the horn. She hid it in her own skirts, and Sorex joined her just then. "Thank you for your service. I see a Thaneship in your future," Elisif said, bowing as she backed away and disappeared into the crowd.

Izra spent another week in Solitude. She spent her mornings with Sorex, helping around the inn, and she had wanted to spend her afternoons with him too. But the inn got busy around lunch, and he was needed. She'd asked if she could help around, and Sorex had playfully chased her outside so she could get some fresh air. "It's good for the healing process," he'd said, and so she spent her afternoons with the smith, watching him work with rapt attention. She didn't quite feel up to the task of hammering out the metal just yet, but she helped him by sharpening swords and she even offered him a few pointers. The first day she did this, Sorex had followed her up to the smith's shop, standing back in the shadows as she worked. When she joined him back at the inn for supper, he took a moment to observe her. She looked too...soft, for such demanding work.

"I didn't know you can smith," he said.. Izra looked up, her mouth full of bread soaked in the stew. She started to answer, her words muffled by the food, before she blushed and swallowed her mouthful. "I learned when I was young, back in Bravil. The smith's furnace was always warm in the cold months. She offered me an apprenticeship, if I was going to continue to hang around. I've learned much more since I came to Skyrim. I studied with Eorlund Grey-Mane for a week or so in Whiterun, once," she said, the tips of her ears turning red. "What kind of things can you smith?" he asked, genuinely interested. Perhaps, in another life, if she weren't the Dragonborn, the two of them could have had a life together. He would have inherited the inn one day, and she would have ran a smith's shop, and they would have lived a happy life in Solitude away from the end of the world with nothing but them and their future children. The worst thing would be rude customers or sick children. Sorex's face burned as he ducked his head, intently observing his meal. It wouldn't happen, couldn't happen, and where had the thoughts of children come from?

"I can make weapons and armor. Arrows are my favorite thing to make. I can make some jewelry too. Mostly rings and circlets. Necklaces are far too delicate. I'm learning, though," she said, and she wondered for a moment if she could make an amulet of Mara. She knew she could easily travel to Riften to pick one up, and help out in the Hold for another couple weeks, before coming back to Solitude. The notion was a foolish one indeed. She was the Dragonborn, and there could never be a future between a hero of legend and an innkeeper. Sorex deserved a peaceful life, didn't he? After all, the Dark Brotherhood had already come after her twice. She couldn't put him through that. "I...might go to the chapel tomorrow," she said, suddenly. Maybe a priest or a priestess there would be able to offer insight. After all, they served the Divines, didn't they? And who was she to deny Mara's will?

The meeting with the priestess was frustrating. The woman just told her to pray on the matter and listen to her heart. Izra couldn't tell her that she needed something more, someone else's actual opinion. Did the Dragonborn have a right to marry, while the world was in danger and destiny waited for her? She sat and prayed, but the gods didn't reveal anything to her. She left the temple feeling far more frustrated and confused than she had ever been.

Perhaps Maramal could help her. She had fire salts for Balimund, which had taken awhile to collect, and she could use that as an excuse to visit Riften and the priest. She had no idea why this bothered her so much; she had never before dreamt of a family while she was young. All she had wanted was a life where she had more than enough, enough that she could ensure others would also have enough. She had that now, didn't she? She had a houses in Whiterun and Riften, and she was close to having one in Solitude. She didn't need that many houses, but there were things that Izra had begun to hoard like houses and gold and fancy gems. She hoarded friends, too, but those were few and far between, and she made sure they were worthy of being hoarded.

At the end of the week, she was brave enough to kiss Sorex's cheek when she said farewell. "I'll be back soon," she promised, and then she was gone again, a few pounds thinner and a little happier and a lot more confused, leaving a man behind who was just as confused as she was.


	6. Chapter 6

Izra loved Riften. She had felt at home from the first time she'd stepped into the city, cold and alone, and she felt more at home there than she had felt anywhere else. She rented her usual room at the inn, browsed the market stalls, and greeted everyone she saw more or less pleasantly. She went to Balimund, gave him the fire salts to help him with his forge. "I made a special trip to Riften just to give you these," she told him, hiding her smile, "In that case, feel free to use anything in my forge to craft something," he told her, and Izra visibly brightened. "I might be back, later, to make something," she promised.

She talked for a few minutes with Madesi, and gave him the best gems she had in the bottoms of her pack. She gave Grelka some armor pieces she had picked up. "I can't use them. Sell them," she'd said, and even the woman's sour nature couldn't spoil Izra's good mood. She was, in a sense, home, and it felt like a warm mug of tea on a cold morning.

When nearly everyone else had gone inside for lunch, Izra slipped inside the Temple of Mara. It was dark inside, cool and peaceful, and inviting. She could almost feel Mara's presence. "What troubles you, my child?" asked Dinya. "I found someone I might love, one day," Izra confessed, and the priestess gave her a knowing smile. "Might that have something to do with your grin?" she asked. "I'm not grinning!" protested Izra half-heartedly, bringing her hand up to hide it. "Tell me all about this person," Dinya said, sitting down on one of the hard wooden benches and patting the seat next to her.

Izra sat, and talked. She told Dinya about Sorex, from how they met to how he'd taken care of her when she'd stumbled back to the Winking Skeever (she had almost said home, how embarrassing that would have been.) Dinya smiled unprofessionally as she listened to Izra talk, saw how bright the girl's eyes were. "I have an amulet of Mara I could let you borrow," Dinya said, a slow and knowing smirk spreading across her face. Izra shook her head, smiling. "It's far too early for that. Besides, I thought maybe I could make one. I'm a smith, after all. And it would mean more. I just...I need advice. Is it okay that I want this? I'm the Dragonborn. Alduin isn't defeated," she said, doubt shadowing her face. Dinya reached out, her hand on the girl's cheek. "Alduin will take much from you in the days to come, child. Don't let him take this from you too," the priestess said, and Izra couldn't stop smiling.

She left the temple, and spent the rest of the day with Balimund and dagger schematics. It wouldn't be anything fancy, but it would be a start.

She was in Riften for a month. In that time, she had done various small things to help the citizens of the Rift. She'd given the beggars a large sum of coin. She'd smithed a dagger of ebony for Sorex. It was the first ebony blade she'd ever attempted, and there were small imperfections, but the edge was razor-sharp and she'd carved his name into the hilt along with her initials. Balimund told her it was a beautiful blade, for it to be her first time working with ebony. She hid it away in her pack and kept it close for the remainder of her time in Riften. She had completely regained her strength, and on the day she left, she saw a wooden box by the gates. It had been full of a litter of puppies, but there was only one left. It was a small thing, with paws far too big for it's body, and soft floppy ears. The fur was a sandy tan color, and Izra fell in love.

The dog went with her. It kept her company on the long journey to Solitude. It bounded around her feet when she let it walk, and curled up sleepily in her arms or in her pack when it had gotten tired. She named him Varen, after someone she'd lost long ago in Bravil. It almost felt strange to say the name again after so long, but somehow it felt right for the pup.

She stopped briefly at a shrine to Talos on her way back to Solitude. She left the war horn, and she said prayers to the Dragonborn-god. "Perhaps you'll help me. We are both of the _dovah sos_ ," she murmured, and then they moved on. She was eager to get back to Skyrim's capital.

Sorex had convinced himself that Izra wouldn't be coming back to Solitude. She was an adventurer, and she had spent much longer in the city than customary for adventurers. She was the Dragonborn, and her destiny was bigger than the city. He was content to have known her for the time he had, or, at least he was during the day. At night, he would lie on his bed, and he would dream. Sometimes he would dream that he adventured with her. They would save the world together. He knew nothing like that could ever happen. There wasn't an adventurous bone in his body. He was an innkeeper, through and through, and while sometimes he would get restless, he was happy. Some nights, however, he would dream that Izra wasn't the Dragonborn. He would dream that she was a normal girl who came to Solitude for an apprenticeship with the smith. Other nights, he would dream that the world was already saved and he would get to grow old with her.

He didn't tell anyone about these dreams. His father, though, would give him a knowing smirk some mornings. He would ignore those.

He almost didn't believe his eyes when the door to the inn opened and she breezed in. There was a small dog stumbling after her, and she looked radiant. "Sorex! I'm back!" she called out, hanging her cloak almost carelessly on the hook. Corpulus smiled to himself. He knew what it looked like when someone was finding a home somewhere, and the Winking Skeever was fast becoming Izra's home. "Izra? Where have you been?" Sorex asked, catching her in a hug and spinning her around. Izra let out a laugh, clinging to him until her feet were firmly back on the ground. "I've been in Riften. I had to make a delivery. I...have something for you," she said, ducking her head, and Sorex was curious. "Oh? Perish the thought! I haven't gotten you anything," he said. Izra grinned, sitting her pack on a nearby table gently. She pulled the wrapped dagger out and unfolded the cloth around it before offering it to him, hilt first. "What's this?" he asked, inspecting the blade. His thumb ran over his name beside her initials. "I made it for you. It's a dagger. It's the first thing I've ever made out of ebony. I thought you might like it," she said, holding her breath as she watched him observe it. Sorex smiled softly, and he almost reached up to cup her face in his hand. "I love it," he said, and Izra almost leaned up to kiss him.

"I have to go back to the Blue Palace. Want to come with me?" she asked, later, after she'd washed off the dust of traveling and changed out of her armor. "I'd love to," he said, and linked his arm in hers. He tried to look away, he really did, but Izra was wearing the best outfit she owned, and she looked stunning. It was a blue and white dress, sweeping to the floor, with bare shoulders. The necklace she wore glimmered in the candlelight. "You look beautiful this evening," Sorex managed, as Izra leaned against him. "You don't look too bad yourself," she said, a faint smile turning one corner of her mouth up. Sorex almost snorted. He was in his regular everyday clothes, dirty from a day's work.

"Anything interesting happen while I was away?" she asked, stepping out into the cool air. "Nothing too interesting, no. Elisif placed a large order for some dresses. That stupid Argonian tried to lure me into some criminal work again," Sorex told her, trying to look everywhere but Izra. The curve of her collarbone and the way the dress dipped down was dangerously distracting to him. _Izra_ was dangerously distracting. "Should I talk to him?" she asked, her voice taking on a sharp tone. "I don't think that'll be necessary," Sorex said, and he couldn't keep the smile off of his face. "If he bothers you again, let me know. I'll chop off his tail and feed it to him," she promised, and Sorex laughed.

Going to the Blue Palace to speak to Elisif didn't intimidate Izra, not with Sorex by her side. He hung back, but he was always there with her, and Izra didn't have anything to fear with him there. She even looked the part tonight, with her hair piled on top of her head and that dress she'd bought in Riften. She knew how to act like a noblewoman, and she thought that Sorex looked surprised. She shouldn't have drank all the wine they offered her, though. Izra never could resist a good cup of wine, and thus they stayed late into the night, dining with Elisif and the rest of the Palace.

Afterwards, Izra dragged Sorex down the hall, her fist swallowing her giggles. "What are we doing back here?" Sorex asked, and then Izra kissed him. She tasted like wine and laughter and he pressed her against the wall and tangled his fingers in her hair. She giggled against his lips, nipping him gently before pulling back to look up at him, her brown eyes wide. Her hair was falling down as he let his hands drift to his shoulders. "We shouldn't have done that," he managed, after a short while. "I don't regret it. Do you?" she asked breathlessly, and then he kissed her again.

They made it back to the Winking Skeever long after the moon dominated the sky. When they got there, Sorex tucked Izra in a bed upstairs, and leaned against the wall outside once he had shut the door. He hadn't imagined how hard it would be to leave her there, but she was far drunker than he, and while he'd enjoyed it and she'd instigated it, it didn't seem right. So he walked downstairs to his own room, and left her to sleep off the hangover she'd have in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Izra woke up with a splitting headache and a dry mouth. She rolled over onto her back and pulled the pillow onto her face with a groan. She hated mornings. She hated hangovers. Slowly, she peeled the pillow off of her face. The room was still dark. Someone had closed the shutters. Had she done it? She thought back, trying to remember. There had been a dinner at the Blue Palace, and she had gone with Sorex, hadn't she? The entire night had passed in a whirlwind. There had been...wine. Lots of wine. And Izra remembered pulling Sorex down the hall. Her face flamed and she let out another groan. I should go talk to Sorex. Or, alternatively, never speak to Sorex again, she thought bitterly.

She drifted in and out of a hazy sleep for another three hours before she finally rose. Someone had, at one point, filled the wash basin in her room with fresh, cold water, and left a small jug of cold milk along with a platter containing a couple sandwiches and a sweetroll. Izra couldn't stop her smile as she splashed the water on her face. Her headache had faded to a dull roar in the back of her mind, which was much more bearable. She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the platter closer, and drained the milk. She almost snorted. I'm the Dragonborn, and I'm literally a milk drinker, she thought, but there was no way in Oblivion that she'd have drank any sort of alcoholic beverage today.

After she ate, she realized she stank like a meadery. She wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and opened the door. The hallway was much brighter than she had expected, and Sorex was sitting at the table just outside, enjoying a meal of his own. He looked up at her as she exited, amusement glittering in his eyes. "Nice of you to join the land of the living," he teased. "I don't think I have quite yet. I need a bath. Could you, ah, help with that?" she asks, sliding into the seat next to him. "Of course," he answers, standing. He stops for a moment, stooping down to kiss the top of her head. Izra stares after him as he walks down the stairs, a small smile gracing her lips.

Ten minutes later, she was sinking into a sinfully warm bath. She let herself relax into the water for a long moment before she began rigorously scrubbing at her skin. She still stank like a meadery, after all. Her headache had all but faded away, too. Today wasn't going to be so bad after all. After the water had gone cold, Izra finally toweled off and dressed. She wore a simple outfit she'd picked up along the road somewhere, with dark trousers and a shirt that was too large. It might have been a men's outfit, but it fit well enough and it was comfortable.

She had begun to drag the tub towards the door when it swung open. She almost fell from the shock, and only managed to catch herself before she fell. Sorex was there, of course, his hands reaching out to catch her. "You startled me," she said, after a few moments frozen in place. Sorex smiled at her. "So it would seem." Slowly, she straightened, her wrists still in Sorex's hands. "Careful," he warned, tugging her closer. She smiled up at him hesitantly. It would be easy, she thought, to press her head against his chest and wrap her arms around him in a hug. So she does, and Sorex tights his arms around her back and kisses the top of her head.

She stays in Solitude for a long time, long enough that the seasons change. At nights, sometimes, after everyone has gone to bed, Izra lies in Sorex's arms in front of the fireplace. "I don't want to leave Solitude," she says, after a silence where they had simply been enjoying each other's company.. "And I don't want you to go," Sorex answers, his fingers threading through her hair. "Is it wrong?" she asks, after a few moments where the only sound was the crackling of the fireplace. "Why would it be?" he asks, sitting up to hover over her as best as he could while she was curled up in his lap. "I'm the Dragonborn. There's still the world to save. And I'm ignoring it," she says, swallowing heavily. "You cannot save the world if you don't make yourself happy," he told her, and she smiled up at him, because when they were together like this, she could almost believe it.

The next night, her thoughts are just as morbid. "Say we got married, but something happened and I...never came home, what would you do?" she asks. This is something that had been bothering Izra for awhile, ever since she had first considered the idea. There is a long silence before Sorex answers. "I would mourn you. I would never forget you, and I would never let the world forget you," he says, lacing his fingers through hers. Izra wonders if that's what I love you sounds like. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, another to her forehead, and finally he kisses her lips as her eyes flutter shut. "What brought this on?" he asks. "I'm going to have to leave again soon," she says, and the lapse back into silence.

A week later, she met with another Bosmer in the Winking Skeever. She unloaded the majority of her pack to him, and told him not to lose anything. He swore he wouldn't. She promised she'd get out of the embassy with everyone alive. Sorex approached her afterwards, leaning against the bar after she'd sat down on the stool. "That a friend of yours?" he asks, concerned. Izra sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand. "No. I'm back to that whole saving the world business," she mumbled. "That means you're leaving?" he asked. "Only reluctantly so. If it helps, I won't be far away," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Where will you be?" he asks suspiciously. She bites her lip, tensing in his embrace. "You won't like it if I tell you," she says. "I'm sure I won't. Where are you going?" he repeats, more firmly this time. "The Thalmor Embassy," she answers, and Sorex freezes. She braces herself, sure that he is about to try and dissuade her. "Be careful," was all he said, pressing a brief kiss against her lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Izra stepped out of the Thalmor Embassy through a disgusting, dark cave, and it felt like walking out of a memory. She shuddered, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself, and began the trudge back to Solitude with Malborn trailing behind. She had given him enough gold to get a carriage to the border, and he was no longer her problem. She walked into her feet were numb, and when she got to the inn, she tossed a coin purse on the counter and went upstairs. Her room was open; as Sorex had promised it would be. She curled inwards on herself, collapsing on the bed in her armor.

The bar was busy, and Sorex shot a desperate look at his father. "Go to her," the man said, "I can handle the customers." Sorex nearly ran up the stairs. Her door was unlocked, and sank down onto the bed next to her. "Izra? What's wrong?" he asked. "Can...Can you just stay with me tonight?" she asked, swallowing heavily. Sorex nodded, moving to close the door. Izra forced herself to stand up and remove her armor. She was shivering as she crawled back onto the bed, leaving the armor crumpled on the floor. Sorex crawled into the bed next to her, and wrapped her in his arms. Soon, she began to drift.

A young Bosmeri girl, sixteen years old, runs after a human boy much taller. She laughs, reaching out to him. "Varen, you know I can't keep up!" she says, and the boy stops. He turns to face her, his eyes laughing as he pulls her closer, swinging her through the air before putting her back on the ground. "I'd never leave you, Izra," he says, and the girl smiles.

A few years later, when she is twenty, she sinks a knife into his stomach and doesn't look back. Izra starts running. She is in a forest now, older, and the trees are black and dead around her. She skids to a stop as she sees someone leaning against the base of a tree. "Varen?" she says, her voice thick. She reaches up and wipes blood of her face. She isn't sure when she got hurt. "The one and only. Why'd you do it, Izra? I thought you loved me. You didn't even check to see if I survived," he says. Izra reaches out to him again, but she can't quite touch him. "I do love you, Varen. But I had to get out. I couldn't stay there my entire life," she whispers brokenly, and then he disappears, and so does the forest.

She is in a dungeon, now, strapped to a rack. She has been stretched the extreme, and she is dirty and sore, but she is so angry. "Why does a little whore thief think she can best the Aldmeri Dominion?" demands an Altmer standing over her. Izra turns her head away and does not answer. A knife descends on her flesh, and the dungeon disappears again.

She is not sure where she is. It is dark and empty. Is this the Void? she wonders. Then she sees Varen once more. "You could have done so much better, Izra. I loved you. You were becoming a blacksmith. We could have had a life together," he says. Izra turns away bitterly. "No, Varen, we couldn't have. I trusted you, and you betrayed that trust. I attacked you in self-defense," she says. "You made that dagger for me," Varen remarks. Izra turns back to face him. Daggers, it seemed, were the only gifts she could give. What did that say about her? "And I left it with you, didn't I?" she says, her voice suddenly full of icy venom, and then he is gone again, spinning away from her.

There is another girl standing with her in the Void, her face in her hands as her shoulders shake with sobs. Izra reaches out a hand, placing it on the girl's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lisbet. I should have helped you," she says, and the girl turns to her, blood leaking out of her mouth. "At least you didn't end up like me," the girl rasped, and coughed. Blood sprayed Izra's face, and then she was running again. She had a stolen satchel clutched tightly to her chest full of food. Tonight, they will feast. When she returns to the broken-down shack they had made their home in, Varen is waiting for her. "I'm dreadfully sorry about this," he says, and then a knife is in Lisbet's throat and Varen is moving towards her with another one. She drops the food and pulls a dagger out of her boot. She sinks it into his stomach, and jerks awake.

Sorex is awake before she comes into awareness, stroking her hair. Izra drags in a deep, shuddering breath, and buries her face in his chest. "What's wrong?" he asks. She is filled with a deep, primal fear and only Sorex can make it go away. She let out a whimper. The ghosts of the past crawl over her skin and she shudders. "I need you. I...I need you to block out the nightmares," she says, desperately. Sorex opens his mouth to ask what he needs her to do, and then her mouth is on his. He can almost taste the desperation on her lips as she climbs on top of him, her fingers threading through his hair almost painfully. She breaks off the kiss to drag a ragged breath in, and he stops her. It would have been so easy to give into her, and gods, he wanted this, but it was wrong. Something was wrong with Izra, and he couldn't bring himself to do this. He had to talk to her, had to figure it out so he could help. "Izra, what's wrong?" he asks again, panting. She shakes her head. "Please, Sorex, I need you. I need you to remind me that I'm here, now, with you, please," she begs, and Sorex relents, kissing down her throat and running his fingers down her back. She breathes him in, and her heart calms down. She leans down to kiss him again, dragging his lips away from her collarbone and meeting them with her own, and this time it is softer and less desperate. "I'm better now," she mumbles, and Sorex breaks the kiss. Her heart calms in her chest. She lets out a heavy breath, curling herself against his chest. Her eyes burned with tears. She was so grateful for Sorex. He'd chased away the ghosts.

"Izra, what happened?" he asks, slowly, deliberately. "I had nightmares," she whispers, "about why I left Cyrodil." Sorex circles his arms around her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, his eyes shining in the candlelight. Izra almost does. "Not...not now, I think," she whispers. Sorex nods, pulling her closer. "Can we...take a bath?" she asks, and Sorex nods, a faint smile on his face. She slides off of his lap and he swings his legs off the bed. It is nearly midnight, and Izra is grateful as he fills a tub full of hot water.

"Do you want me to join you?" he asks, and there is only a desire to comfort her in his eyes. Izra is touched. She nods, slipping into the hot water after removing her underclothes, and Sorex sits in front of her in the water. She relaxes against the edge of the tub, her legs tangled with his. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her head hanging down. "Don't be, Iz," he says, reaching out to cup her face. Izra smiles weakly as the dog puts her front paws on the edge of the tub and stands.

They sleep late the next morning, and Izra has no more nightmares. Downstairs, Sorex's father smiles to himself as he cleans the bar alone.


End file.
